


One Year

by reigningqueenofwords



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-13 00:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12972060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Summary: Reader finds out why she's been so sick.





	1. One Year

Sam brushed the hair back from your face as you were curled up in the blanket on the couch. You’d had a fever for the past few days that didn’t seem to be letting up. That, paired with your serious fatigue, you wanted nothing to do with even thinking of a hunt. Sam had been keeping you company lately, letting you use him as a pillow. He’d watch television while you’d drift in and out of sleep.

Feeling your nose start to gush, you tilted your head back. “ _Fuck_.” You muttered. 

He sat up quickly and handed you the damn rag that he’d been patting on the back of your neck. “What happened?” He asked gently.

You shrugged. “Dunno. I’m used to it.” He furrowed his brows. “It’s been happening a bit lately. More annoying than anything. I’ll be fine.”

Once you’d gotten the bleeding under control, you forced yourself up to rinse it with hot water. Seeing Dean, you gave him a small smile. “Hey, Dean. What’s up?”

“Hunt.” He held up a folder. “You coming along, or you still feeling like shit?”

You sighed. “ _Still_ feel like shit.”

“Maybe you’re _pregnant_.” He teased, patting your arm with the folder before going to find Sam.

Watching him walk away, you panicked. No. That wasn’t it. Was it? You took a deep breath and went back to the living room. You curled up against Sam, pushing Dean’s comment out of your head. Nothing that was said registered in your mind. You stared blankly at the coffee table until Sam’s voice jarred you from your thoughts. “Babe?”

You shook your head and chuckled, looking up at him. “Sorry, I spaced.”

He kissed your forehead. “I said we shouldn’t be gone too long. Week _tops_.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. “Get some rest.”

“I will. When do you leave?”

“As soon as our bags are together.” He gave you a sad smile.

* * *

An hour after Sam walked out the door, you went to the walk-in clinic. Being a hunter didn’t exactly make it easy to afford insurance. This was your best bet. As you sat in the waiting room, your foot twitched nervously. Were you pregnant? If you were, was that a good thing? A bad thing? Your mind was going a million miles a minute.

You had filled out pages of paperwork, which was now weighing  your legs down. Somewhere on there was a clue as to what was going on.

A door opened and a friendly looking nurse stepped out. “Y/N Y/L/N?”

Swallowing, you got up and walked over to her, handing her the clipboard. You followed her towards the exam room, feeling like your heart was in your throat.

* * *

It seemed like you sat in the cold room for hours, when in reality, it was less than twenty minutes. “Miss Y/L/N?” A female’s voice asked after a knock.

“Yeah?”

She entered and sat down, looking over your paperwork. “So, it seems that you’ve been having some issues as of late. Let me ask you- how much do you weigh?”

You raised an eyebrow. “It says on my chart. I didn’t see.”

“No, I mean, _before_ today. Do you know how much you weighed.”

Shrugging, you thought about it. “I don’t  know. 160? 170? I don’t really weigh myself.”

“Have you been trying to lose weight?” You shook your head. “Miss Y/L/N, you only weight 140 today.” She looked at you sadly before getting up and feeling under your jaw near your neck. “Can you lay back, please?” You did as she asked, and she checked around your lower abdomen. “You can sit up now.”

“Any idea what’s going on?”

She sat back down and sighed. “We’ll need to do blood tests to be sure, but the signs are that you have leukemia. I’ll have my nurse come in and get a blood sample. We should have the results back in a couple days. We’ll have you come back in and discuss your options.”

You swallowed, your eyes watering. You barely registered her leaving, or the nurse coming in to take your blood.

The whole drive home was spent in silence. You hoped that it was just a fluke. There was no way that you had cancer.

* * *

The next two days of your life seemed to go by at a snails pace. You could barely sleep, and when you spoke to Sam, you knew he was worried. Nothing about the possible cancer was mentioned, but he could tell something was bothering you.

Finally, the call came. They didn’t give you the results over the phone, and that’s when you knew. Your heart broke. You would never marry Sam. You would never become a mother. You had an appointment the next morning, and you spent the rest of the afternoon preparing yourself before you took two sleeping pills and actually got some sleep.

* * *

“I’m sorry, but the blood results weren’t good.” The doctor told you.

“What are my chances of surviving?” Your voice was quiet.

“ _About_ sixty percent.”

Your vision blurred as tears filled your eyes. “How long do I have?”

She took a deep breath. “Judging by your labs, I’d say about a year. I’m sorry, there are options, however.”

You got up and walked out. What options? Go through chemo to feel even worse and hope that it worked?

* * *

That night, you laid on your bed, phone on your stomach. Sam would be calling soon, like he did every night.

Finally, his ring tone was all you heard. “Hey, Sammy.” You said quietly.

“Babe? What’s wrong?”

“I went to the doctor’s.”

He took a deep breath. “Everything okay?”

There was a long silence. “I have leukemia, Sam.” You sobbed. “She said I have about a year left.”

 


	2. Bucket List

_Finally, his ring tone was all you heard. “Hey, Sammy.” You said quietly._

_“Babe? What’s wrong?”_

_“I went to the doctor’s.”_

_He took a deep breath. “Everything okay?”_

_There was a long silence. “I have leukemia, Sam.” You sobbed. “She said I have about a year left.”_

That conversation played over and over in your head. Sam had refused to believe it at first, and then he broke down. You cried on the phone together, until finally, you cried yourself to sleep.

  
When Sam and Dean got back, the three of you sat down together. No one said anything for what seemed like ages. “I want to make a bucket list.” You said finally. “She said I have about a year left, and a sixty percent chance of surviving- if I did chemo.” You told them, staring at the cup of coffee in your hands. “I don’t want to sit around and do nothing. This is my last year…I want to make it full of life.”

You and Sam were tearing up, and Dean looked numb before nodding. “Whatever you want.” He looked at you. “We’ll make you your bucket list. We’ll go through and get every single one of them crossed off. And, when you survive this…you’ll have all those memories.”

You gave him a sad smile. “I’m not doing the chemo, Dean.” You said gently. “I know that I’m pretty much

_agreeing_

to die, but I’m going to do it without all the side effects of chemo. I’m not going to do it in and out of the hospital. I want to embrace what life I have left.”

* * *

The first thing the three of you did, was visit Las Vegas. It was Sam’s idea, actually. He knew that you’d always wanted to get married, to have a family. All he wanted was for you to live as long as you could as Mrs. Winchester. He bought the two of you simple matching gold bands, and then the two of you got married. Dean grinned the whole time, and cheered when you were announced husband and wife. The thought of leaving him a widower broke your heart, you were overwhelmed with his love for you. He never once thought of walking away, knowing that you were on borrowed time.

In between checking things off your list, they would do hunts. While they were out saving the world, you would rest in the motel room. You’d read, or watch TV. Part of your list was to read as many books as possible. You’d started writing down the books you read in a notebook, along with the date you started them, and the date you finished them. You knew that once you were gone, it wouldn’t matter, but it let you see what you were accomplishing.

By month three, you had read about twenty books. You’d re-read Harry Potter, and you made Sam to promise to keep them. Out of everything you owned, you really wanted him to have them. If he ever had kids, you wanted them to know the magic of imagination and friendship.

You spent a weekend on the beach, a day at Disney World, you got a tattoo, died your hair a fun color, and went skinny dipping. Sam had so many pictures to look back on, full of laughter and smiles.

As your time dwindled, and you neared a year, Dean hugged you tight and cried. He knew that you could last over a year, but it felt like a dark cloud over the three of you. He left the two of you in the middle of the night, a note on the table.

_**To the Mr. and Mrs.  
You never got a honeymoon. Take this time and enjoy. Dance under the stairs, watch a sunrise, kiss in the rain. Whatever chick flick stuff that you want. These past eleven months have been amazing. Thank you, Y/N for making me live my life. I’ve felt more alive, more at peace, and like I was really part of something. ** _

_**-Dean** _

You and Sam looked at each other, a small smile on your faces. “Comfort Dean for me when I’m gone, Sammy?” You asked quietly. “Be there for each other.” He cupped your face and kissed you gently. You were still having your symptoms, some days worse than others, but you managed.

The two of you did exactly what Dean suggested. Dancing in the rain made you feel like a kid again, back when life was simple, and death wasn’t something on your mind. He pulled you close and his lips met yours, giving you the same butterflies that he always had. “I love you, Mrs. Winchester.” He smiled against your lips.

“I love you, too, Mr. Winchester.”  

* * *

One morning, you woke up coughing, and had blood in your hand.  Sam had sat up the second you started to really hack, and saw. “Oh, God.” He rushed out of bed, grabbing a rag for you to cough into.

You went to get up and passed out.

Blinking, you woke up to bright lights. “Sam?” You looked around. Instead of just Sam, you saw Dean, as well. Both with red, puffy eyes, and tear stained cheeks. “Hey, why the long faces?” You asked, giving them a weak smile. 

* * *

Despite being cremated, Sam had made sure that you had a beautiful headstone. He knew that him and Dean were the only ones who would visit, but you deserved that much. Every time he was within an hour, he drove out to sit with you and ‘talk’. He knew that it was pointless, but it was comforting.

It was the one year anniversary of the day that he’d said goodbye, and it hadn’t gotten any easier. Kneeling down, he placed a bouquet in front of your tomb stone. His gold wedding band still on his finger. “I’ll always love you.” He whispered, letting out a choked sob.

Dean stood back a bit, hands in his pockets, watching his baby brother’s shoulders shake. His jaw was set, willing himself not to break down, he needed to be strong for Sammy.


End file.
